


It's all in the delivery, baby

by Grace_d



Series: Short Stories for Small Spiders [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Amused Tony Stark, Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), Gen, Humor, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Trapped In Elevator, idk how elevators work, non-graphic descriptions of labour/birthing, peter parker phones a friend, that friend is not very helpful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28314003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grace_d/pseuds/Grace_d
Summary: Peter hits the emergency call button. It buzzes once, then a pre-programmed message rings out. “A technician has been dispatched to your location and emergency services have been notified. Please remain calm.”The woman hasn’t responded to Peter, and he looks over to see her bracing herself heavily against the wall, gulping in air.“Hey, do you need a hand?” Peter asks, “You don’t look so good, kind of, red and puffy.”She shoots him a sharp look, which is fair, as he grasps her elbow and helps her lower herself to the ground.“It’s started.” She says.Or, Peter is trapped in an elevator with baby that wantsoutof its mother's stomachright nowand maybe Spider-man won't be the one to save today
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Original Female Character(s), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Short Stories for Small Spiders [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1423630
Comments: 34
Kudos: 206
Collections: Irondad and Spiderson Secret Santa 2020





	It's all in the delivery, baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notapartytrick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notapartytrick/gifts).



> Happy Holidays to you, Daisy!! Thank you for your amazing prompts, I didn't have much angst in me right now, so please accept my humble offering of an overwhelmed Peter rising to a difficult occasion. I'm sending you lots of good Christmas vibes, thank you for being such a wonderful, sunny friend and writer and I hope you have a great holiday <3 
> 
> Big thank you to @ferretshark for lending me your clever brain and your constant support and last minute beta-ing!!

“No need for you to stick around this weekend, Ned!” Peter says, pinching the phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulls on his backpack and locks the apartment door. “I’m taking Christmas off.” 

“This is exactly what you said on Thanksgiving.” Ned retorts , “And we all remember how that turned out.” 

“Exceptional circumstances.” Peter dismisses, “I mean it this time!” 

Ned’s silence is loudly judgemental as Peter heads down the hallway to the elevator. 

“I’ve finally fixed that old Nintendo I found. I’m going to drop by the bodega, then I’m going to spend the rest of the weekend entirely horizontal.” Peter continues. 

“You know saying that is basically asking for some sort of cataclysmic, horrific, unbelievable, extinction-level Christmas morning threat, right?” Ned says. 

“What happened to your positive thinking kick?” Peter stops at the elevator, smacking the lift button with his elbow. Peter rocks on his heels as the characteristic whirring comes from inside the lift shaft as it lowers, then stops at the floor above him. 

“I’m done with that,” Ned says, “I’m into reverse psychology now. I vote you don’t even leave the apartment, just hunker down and wait for Doomsday.” 

“Once I pick up ice cream and like, eight packets of flaming hot Doritos, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” 

Above him the elevator restarts, then continues down to his floor, the doors sliding open with hesitation. A woman is already in there, leaning against the wall, face barely visible above the collar of her thick coat. Peter gives her a polite smile as he steps in. 

“I’ve been dreaming about this break.” Peter says to Ned as the elevator starts moving. He leans against the wall. “I’m going to be the most irresponsible teenager known to mankind.” 

Words spoken too soon, as Peter’s spider-sense sense flares and the elevator shudders, the fluorescent lights in the small box flickering. 

“On no,” Peter breathes, at the exact same time as the lady in the elevator lets out a gasp. 

“What was that?” Ned asks quickly. “Peter, what was that?” 

The elevator shudders again, then slows. 

Peter curses quietly, “Call you right back.” 

He disconnects the call and drops his phone away, listening intently. Up above, he can hear the cabling twanging gently, and nothing else abnormal from the elevator shaft. This situation might be a minor complication in his afternoons plans, he thinks ruefully. Beside him though, the woman’s breathing is ratcheting up as the lift lights flicker again. 

“Not to worry, Ma’am” Peter smiles at her, “this piece of crap lift does this all the time.” 

As if to hear him, and in utter indignation, the elevator gives another shudder, and any and all signs of mechanical movement screeches to a halt. 

“Does it do _this_ all the time?” The woman asks, tightly. 

Peter frowns. “That’s slightly less usual.” he jokes, and presses the door open button. Nothing happens. He presses the door closed button, then the buttons for the floor above and floor below in quick succession. The elevator doesn’t even acknowledge it, which, rude, Peter thinks. 

He hits the emergency call button. It buzzes once, then a pre-programmed message rings out. _“A technician has been dispatched to your location and emergency services have been notified. Please remain calm.”_

The woman hasn’t responded to Peter, and he looks over to see her bracing herself heavily against the wall, gulping in air. 

“Hey, do you need a hand?” Peter asks, “You don’t look so good, kind of, red and puffy.” 

She shoots him a sharp look, which is fair, as he grasps her elbow and helps her lower herself to the ground. 

“It’s started.” She says. 

Not ominous at all, Peter thinks. 

“I called an ambulance,” the lady huffs out, “my wife is at work- my phone signal dropped out in the lift- and they’re coming- but so- so is the baby.” 

“I’m sorry,“ Peter says as politely as he can manage over the sound of his brain imploding, “the what?” 

“My baby- is COMING!” She keens. She leans back and her coat falls away, revealing a hugely pregnant stomach. 

“Can you hold it in?” Peter asks without thinking, his mind already trying to get them out of this scenario. 

Maybe he can get the lift restarted? Or work out why it stopped. Or, barring that, he thinks, as the lady lets out a harsh pant and grips her stomach more tightly, maybe he can climb up to the shaft and pull the lift up after him. Peter starts to stand. 

The woman’s hand shoots out and she grabs his wrist. 

“Wow, okay, power grip there,” Peter says as he’s yanked downwards, “So, um, what do you need? I’ve got to tell you that I’ve been in quite a few emergency situations, but I don’t know much about delivering babies.” 

She lets out a shaky laugh. “Me either, this is my first ” 

“Wow! Well, congratulations!” Peter says awkwardly. “Hopefully the baby can hang out in there until-“ His breath cuts short in a pained gasp as the lady squeezes his wrist so tightly Peter has a flashback to his fight with the Vulture. 

“Sorry.” She apologises immediately and releases his arm. 

Peter rubs the red mark on his arm but smiles at her. “No worries, I’m pretty tough.” 

And with the reminder of his significantly more heroic alter ego, Peter sets about to solve the problem. He climbs up on the railing that runs around the elevator, causing the floor to wobble beneath them. 

“What are you doing?” The lady asks as Peter’s pulling himself up to poke his head out the access shaft. “Please get down!” 

They are positioned exactly between floors. 

“I’m alright,” he reassures her, trying to gauge the distance, and whether the woman will fit through the access panel. 

“Well I’m not!” She exclaims. “Get your skinny butt back inside the lift. I cannot deal with active contractions plus a teenager with a broken leg.” 

Peter drops lightly back down, deciding it’s way too far for him to carry her up the shaft in her current state anyway. He sits back down beside the woman, who seems for the moment to be a little more comfortable. She ties her dark hair back from her face, and Peter notices for the first time she’s in a nightgown and her winter boots are unlaced. 

She smiles ruefully at him. “I was in a bit of a rush. I do have my hospital bag though,” and she shows him her duffle bag, complete with baby wipes, toiletries and a dressing gown. 

Peter roots through his own backpack for something useful, pulling out crumpled receipts and scattered physics notes. “Bottle of water?” He offers the woman weakly. 

She accepts it, tipping it open and patting the water on her face, fanning her red cheeks. Peter searches through the rest of his bag, finding only his flashlight, a home sewing kit, a hastily rewound ace bandage and a half full packet of Tylenol. 

Peter’s phone rings loudly in his pocket. 

It’s Ned, and he’s chattering away before Peter can even say hello. Or help. “Hey Peter, did you know there’s an ambulance on route to your building?” 

Peter cups a hand over his phone’s microphone. “Ambulance is on the way.” He says to the lady, who gives him an odd look. 

“Oh, but bad news,” Ned continues, “fire department’s been called too, something about people trapped in the elevator ?” 

He should probably talk to Ned about how much he accesses the New York City emergency services server.

“Ned.” Peter speaks slowly, and clearly, “I’m trapped in the elevator, and so is the lady having the baby.” 

“Oh!” Ned says, “tell her congratulations for me. Miracle of life, and all that.” 

“I’ll pass it on,” Peter says, just as the lady lets out another sharp gasp and reaches his hand. 

“OH! Oh shit,” Ned says in sudden realisation, “the lady having the baby is in the elevator with you.” 

“Yes, Ned.” Peter says through gritted teeth, as the lady gives his hand a firm squeeze, “that’s what I said. 

“Hey, no problem, I know all about having babies. Remember my sister had a baby last year?” 

“Yeah?” Peter hisses into his phone, “Unless she did it in an elevator with a pack of Tylenol and an ace bandage, I don’t think the experience is gonna be transferable.” 

“Well no. But I can look up things for you! Guy in the chair!” 

Peter offers the lady a pained smile. “My friend’s just googling to see if there’s anything we can do.” 

She gives a sudden groan and leans forwards, bracing her hands against her thighs. “I think-” she pants, “I need to change position.” 

Peter puts Ned on speakerphone, and helps the lady up onto her feet, where she immediately bends over, resting her forehead against the railing in the elevator. 

Peter’s just about to ask if he can do anything, like rub her back (he’s sure he saw that in a movie) when Ned interrupts. 

“Okay, so for a home birth-“ 

“Not at home-“ the woman grits out. 

“Oh, right! Well, my research indicates it’s all about the breathing. You have to help her breath down into her uterus.” 

“Breathing into her what?” Peter snatches up the phone. “I’m not going to do that, Ned!” 

“Not you, her. She’s got to breathe down into her uterus.” 

“Is that even possible?” Peter asks. 

“I don’t know, here, let me pull up a diagram.” There’s a brief pause, then Ned adds, “You should probably check how much her cervix is dilated.” 

“I don’t know how to do that!” Peter yelps into the phone. 

“That’s why I’ll send you a diagram!” Ned yells back. 

“NED!” Peter hangs up on his friend in frustration. 

He stares down at his phone gripped tightly in his fist. He feels hugely, enormously underqualified in this particular situation. He wants a refund on today. 

He notices his companion’s breathing change again. “You okay?” he asks her. 

She nods weakly, “Yeah. Scary.” She shrugs herself out of her winter coat, then resumes fanning at her face. “And it’s damn hot in here.” 

“Yeah.” For the first time, it occurs to him that he’s not the only one that was getting more than they signed up for today. 

Somehow nothing he’s faced before this moment feels quite as intimidating as the mystery of birth and the sudden, overwhelming realisation that for the next few moments, he might be the responsible party in assisting the entry of one, very small, very vulnerable human into the world. 

C’mon Spider-man, he thinks to himself, get yourself together. How does May do this? 

“Oh! May!” Peter says. “My aunt is a nurse, is it okay if I call her?” 

The lady nods, her head still resting against the railing, one hand rubbing the swell of her stomach. “How can you even get reception in here?” She asks. 

“Oh you know,” he laughs nervously. “Gotta love those comprehensive Starkphone plans.” The answer seems to satisfy her as Peter calls May, hoping fervently that she picks up. With each unanswered ring his dread increases. 

The second she picks up Peter practically explodes with his request. “May, you have to help us we’re trapped in the elevator and the baby is coming so if you could just discover a hidden ability to teleport in here right now that would be really great!” 

May doesn’t even hesitate, “do you want to run that by me again?” She asks politely. 

Peter takes a deep breath, then explains the situation as the lady pants through another contraction. 

May is way calmer than Peter feels is justified, simply saying “Peter, don’t freak out, babies basically deliver themselves.” 

“Well this one seems to be having a little trouble!!” Peter says, flapping an agitated arm out to the side. 

May reassures him again, then asks for the lady’s name. 

“Oh shit.” Peter spins on his heel. “I totally forgot to ask your name. I'm so sorry!” 

“It’s Thea.” The lady says as she comes out of another contraction. 

“Why don’t you let me talk to Thea?” May suggests, and Peter puts her on speaker phone, listens intently as they discuss Thea’s labour so far. Peter decides to lay down their jackets and assorted extras to make a soft bed for when she needs to lay down again, fussing about getting the coats arranged just so as he tries to internalise some of May’s calmness. As he does, he hears noise from below them, and sounds of people checking the elevator shaft. 

“I like her much better than your other friend.” Thea says with a smile, patting his shoulder in thanks as she passes Peter the phone and gingerly lowers herself onto the pile of coats. 

Peter drapes his flannel shirt over her exposed knees. “May’s the best.” 

“Alright, team.” May says from the speakerphone, “Thea’s feeling like she needs to start pushing now, which is totally normal. So when her contractions come, she’s going to push. Peter, you’re going to support her, give her encouragement, remind her to take deep breaths, hold her hand if she needs. Does that sound like a plan?” 

Thea and Peter both nod, Peter extending his hand hesitantly, and Thea gripping it tightly in her own with a tight smile. 

Peter launches into a string of friendly commentary, what Aunt May calls his “super babble” although Peter prefers to think of it as a comforting stream of observational humour and witty anecdotes to comfort the civilians. It covers the sound of his brain totally melting down. 

Thea’s next contraction hits. 

“Oh my god!” She gasps and crushes his hand. 

“You got this!” Peter aims for up beat. “You’ve totally got this! You are a totally badass, strong lady, like She-Hulk, and you’re going to push this baby right out.” 

She gives him an eye roll when she catches her breath. “Like She-hulk?” She asks. 

Peter doesn’t have time to defend himself before her next contraction starts. 

“Breathe, Thea!” He tells her, “follow my breathing.” Peter proceeds to dramatically hyperventilate before both May and Thea tell him to slow down with the demonstrations, but as Thea continues to grip his hand and her contractions seem to blur together, time and space narrows down in the tiny elevator and his own worry falls away with concentrating on helping Thea undertake her task with amazing focus. 

He couldn’t say if it’s been five minutes or five hours but finds himself chanting an endless cycle of “You’re strong, you can to this. Push! C’mon Thea. C’mon, Spider-man. Push!” He really doesn’t even have to tell her. She’s so far beyond him now, operating on instinct through a haze of pain and purpose. 

He barely even notices as the noise in the elevator increases and they start moving downwards because Thea suddenly grabs his forearm with her other hand and locks her eyes onto his. 

“I think this is it.” She huffs, and Peter can see the strain on her face. 

“Thea, we’ve got this! ” Peter says, and finds he really means it. “One last push. Push!” 

* * *

“Wow.” Peter says quietly. “Just wow.” 

He sits in the back of the ambulance, a towel held limply between his hands. The paramedic gives him a reassuring pat before turning back to Thea, and the tiny bundle she now holds close to her chest. 

Thea gives him a crooked grin. “Thank you, Peter. You were a real superhero in there.” She winks. “Do you want to have a hold?” 

Peter lifts his hands out rigidly, unsure of himself now that it’s not an emergency, as the small bundle is settled into his arms and he looks down at the top of the baby’s blotchy head. Objectively, she looks like a sticky, squashed old man, but as Peter gazes down he simply feels wonder. 

“Thank you,” He says earnestly to Thea. He feels completely overwhelmed by the moment, which is saying something in an entirely overwhelming day. “Thank you for choosing me to help deliver your child to the world.” 

The baby wiggles in his arms, and Peter looks back down. 

“Oh! Sorry,” He sniffles, “I’m crying on your baby.” 

Thea and the paramedic laugh, as Peter tries to wipe his leaking eyes on his shoulder. 

“Would you like some water?” The paramedic asks him. 

“No, thank you,” Peter blinks, his vision blurring slightly, and he wetly blinks again, gazing downwards in awe. “I just need to call my aunt.” 

* * *

Peter sits on the couch at the apartment, one heel rapidly tapping against the floor as he contemplates what to do next. The universe is so much bigger than it was this morning, the city and Queens and everything that life entails as so much more than it was before. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Peter sprints to it, throwing it open, to find Tony on the other side. 

“Mister Stark!” Peter exclaims, before throwing himself at the man, wrapping him in a tight hug. 

“Hey bud,” Tony says, somewhat bemused. 

“I’m so glad you’re here!” He says into Tony’s shoulder. He steps back, inviting Tony in with a “Why are you here?” 

“Just in the neighbourhood, thought I’d stop by. May mentioned there was some excitement . She suggested I hear it from you.” 

“Tony,” Peter says, feeling very grown up, “I had a baby.” 

Tony splutters, then coughs into his hand. "Is that right? And do they look like you?" 

“Yeah, a little." Peter still feels a bit dazed. 

“Well then,” Tony says, hand still covering his face hiding the edges of a smile, “congratulations.” 

“Thanks,” Peter says with a happy sigh, then flops down onto the couch. “I just don’t know what to do with myself now. I’m glad you’re here.” Peter pats the couch beside him. “I’m so glad-“ Peter interrupts himself with a yawn, “-we can be here together. Isn't life amazing?” 

“Alright, kiddo, I think that adrenaline crash is making you a little loopy.” 

“No,” Peter says, “I’m just into higher things than I was this morning.” 

They sit in silence for a moment, Peter contemplating the universe, then Tony interrupts the silence with “Do higher things include that retro Nintendo I see you’ve salvaged?” 

Peter hums, and sinks further into the couch. “I don’t know, Mister Stark. After today, doesn’t that seem a little immature?” 

“Okay, oh life bringer,” Tony teases, “think you could humour me with one round of Donkey Kong before you leave your childhood completely behind?” 

Peter concedes, but only to one game. After all, he needs to start researching for his new babysitting job.

**Author's Note:**

> Please note I've never hit an emergency call button in a lift in my life, so I can't say for certain what happens when you do!!  
> Parts of this fic were inspired by an episode of the Australian TV series RUSH.


End file.
